Resurrection
by westernbeauty
Summary: How will Felicity cope when Oliver returns from the dead.


**It's been a while, busy, busy. I Feel like given current events on the show this needed to be written. Hope you like :)**

Oliver

As I fight my way through the haze and cloudiness of unconsciousness the sound of dripping water and the smell of damp invades my senses. I feel the overwhelming stench of death constricting my airways and all I can think of is her. My Felicity. I struggle, screaming her name, hoping desperately that she is alive, unscathed, hoping that when my eyes finally obey me and open, that she will be staring down at me through those innocent blue eyes.

I start to shudder and shake as a searing pain fires through me and I remember Rhas al Ghul, the mountain and the sword as it plunges through me. My eyes shoot open and my hand instantly lashes out in attack at the hazy figure by my bedside, my fingers automatically wrapping around his throat ready to squeeze the life out him and save myself. The hand that grazes my wrist and the gentle tones of a familiar voice have me systemically releasing my fingers as I sink back into the makeshift bed beneathe me. I watch with intrigue as Maseo tends to my burning forehead with a damp cloth before I peer down at my injured torso blinking back tears at the accumulation of yet another scar to add to the collection of many that disfigure me.

I struggle to speak and Maseo immediately senses this, senses the entire thought process that is swimming through my mind at that very moment, responding to questions that I haven't even asked.

"You saved my life once, by saving my family, you saved me. I always pay my debts" He pauses and wipes my brow once again. "Rhas has announced your death. Your friends." I cut him off, nodding that I understand. I can't bear the thought of Felicity grieving for me, thinking that I broke my promise to come home. It is with thoughts of her that I drift back into the ignorance of unconsciousness.

Felicity (1 Week Later)

I can feel Diggle's heated gaze on me as I read the results of the blood test sent over from Caitlin and realize that I haven't spoken since Malcolm Merlyn appeared in the Foundry three hours ago and uttered the four most devastating words that have ever graced my eardrums. 'Oliver Queen is dead' I feel Diggle's presence behind me and freeze. "Felicity?" He's asking me if it's true, asking me to tell him that it isn't his best friends blood on that sword, pleading for me to tell him it's not true, but I can't. I simply nod.

It's Oliver's blood.

His hand rests on my shoulder but I refuse to accept his comfort, just as I refuse to accept that the presence of his blood means that my beloved Oliver has perished.

"No Diggle. No. He's not dead. I know he isn't"

I wrap my arms around myself and whimper, distraught at the prospect of Oliver dying alone, never knowing how I really feel about him. I push Diggle away and manoeuvre myself away from the evidence in front of me, that has me struggling to hold down the bile that I can feel creeping up my throat.

"Felicity" Diggle enunciates.

"No, No he is not Dead Diggle, I know it. I feel it." I hear myself yell almost hysterically. I manage to calm my heart rate which is erratic and slow my breathing before speaking again in a lower, less agitated tone

"He's not dead Diggle"

Diggle tentatively moves closer towards me fumbling, not knowing where to place his hands, just that he needs as much comfort as I do. His hands find mine and his eyes bore through me. "To survive an injury like that..I .. Don't"

I squeeze Diggle hands noticing the tears that pooling in his eyes. "He's survived worse" I state, my voice betraying me and almost giving out completely, not sure if I'm trying to convince him or myself.

Reluctantly I turn back the monitors and track Oliver last known movements. When I turn back to the man I consider my brother he knows what I'm asking and he nods knowing it's the right thing to do.

Oliver

I watch silently, my patience lacking as Barry paces in front of me in the medical bay at Star Labs, trying to come to terms with my presence.

"We thought you were dead. Oh my god. I have to call Felicity" Barry murmered as he reached his phone from his pocket I instinctively jump down off the gurney, a sharp pain thrusting its way through my middle as I grab his wrist "No Barry" I bark.

Barry eyes me with an incredulous look. "Oliver, we have to tell her"

I take a long cleansing breath, trying to calm myself from being irritated by his naivety, before releasing him and turning and walking away "It's too dangerous. No one can know I'm alive Barry"

When I turn back and face him, a safe distance between us he begins to stammer "No you don't understand. Oliver. Felicity, Diggle and Roy are about an hour from getting on a plane to find you."

I sigh emphatically, rubbing my hand over my stubble, trying my bed to process this information. I summon Barry's attention and nod, granting my permission for him to do what he is silently requesting. The room vibrates with a harsh gust of wind, the force of which propels me backwards, as Barry exits as his altergo. Within seconds I find myself face to face with a confused and befuddled Roy, Diggle and Felicity.

The sight of the woman I have been dreaming of for three weeks has me swaying and I fall back against the gurney for support. Before I can regain my balance, Roy's wrapping his arms around me like a child meeting Santa on Christmas eve. After a brief few seconds he retreats and apologises

"Sorry, it's just really good to see you. "

I can't help the feeling of warmth and emotion that overcomes me and somehow I manage to return the compliment, my eyes never leaving Felicity who remains glassy eyed and silent as she watches me intently. As Diggle shakes my hand and pulls me into a brotherly hug, I inhale sharply from the pressure he unwittingly applies to my injury, my eyes never moving from Felicity's direction. I take stock of the weight she has lost, the dark circles under her eyes, giving away her lack of sleep, and her chipped nail polish, yet she looks as radiant as the day I left her. The day I uttered those three sacred words.

I am grateful when Diggle senses the tension that's rife between us and takes it upon himself to usher Roy from the room suggesting that they give Felicity and I some privacy. As soon as the door clicks shut behind them Felicity glides apprehensively towards me. Her hand shudders forwards towards my torso and I wrap my fingers lightly around her wrist before her fingers touch my shirt. Her eyes find mine and I see the concern etched in her features.

"You're hurt" she states authoritatively and pulls her hand away from my grasp and proceeds to slowly unbutton my shirt. I try to push aside the impure thoughts that enter my mind at her command over me and find myself trying to control a shudder as she pushes my shirt from my shoulders. Felicity gasps at the line of stitches left from the blade of Rhas Al Ghuls sword before tracing the line with her fingertips, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. Her fingers scrawl a message of lust, love and devotion as they trail around my side and to my back assessing the remaining damage.

I feel her head fall against my shoulder and it's all I can do to not turn around and ravish her the way I have wanted to for so long. I feel what I believe is her placing a kiss just above my scar before walking back to face me and doing the same on my front. Her head falls to my chest, her angelic face pressed against my Bratva tattoo and I don't have to ask to know she is listenting to the thrumming of my heart below. I feel my lips curl into what promises to be a smile as my arms wrap around her encasing her in the warmth of my overheating figure. I breathe out the words "I'm here" into her hair and she pulls away and looks at me as if to check once more that I'm not a figment of her imagination. I tower and tilt my head towards her and she offers me her forehead, I'm not surprised, but it hurts nonetheless that this is what she has come expect. I look at her in a way that tells her, no not anymore, and I place my forefinger under her chin and lift her head so her gaze meets mine. My lips hover over hers and before I can second guess myself I kiss her. My hands cradle her face as I pour every ounce of love and adoration I feel for her into that one moment, feeling weak at the realisation that I never want to let her go. When she reluctantly pulls away a little breathless, I lean my forehead against hers, sweeping a loose strand of her blonde hair behind ear, silently praying she'll understand the next words that I'm about to speak.

"I have to go back"


End file.
